


02. Complicated

by djchika



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djchika/pseuds/djchika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was an actor, a screenplay writer, a children's book author and oh, he also seemed to be some sort of sleeping sex fiend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	02. Complicated

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted August 22, 2012
> 
> Part of My Crisscolfer 100 Ficlet (Drabble) Challenge

Chris was nine when he first thought that the only way for him to drown out all the noise in his life was to grab a pen and paper and start writing.

He didn’t do it to be mean. He loved his dad and his mom and his sister but sometimes even at night when the house was still and all he could hear were the hushed whispers of his parents from across the hall, the quiet was still so deafening that he hid his head underneath his pillow until he fell asleep. That was how his mom finds him every morning.

"I told you not to sleep with your pillow on your head, Christopher. I don't want you to suffocate," she said when his sleepy eyes met hers.

He mumbled an apology but didn’t promise anything more than that. He knew that she’d find him in the same position tomorrow and the morning after that.

Soon it was more than just the threat of suffocation that plagued Chris' sleep. He started sleep walking at the age of 10 and when they found him at the kitchen counter his hand burned from trying to take a hot tray out of the oven, his parents were forced to lock him inside his room at night.

Surprisingly, the stress of high school leveled out his sleeping problems. He trashed in bed and woke up from nightmares sweat soaked and breathing hard but during some of the most difficult years in his life, he stayed in bed and didn’t sleep walk once.

It was when he stopped going to school that they started back up again.

When Glee threw his life into an upheaval and he found himself living alone, his sleeping habits became even stranger. He recounted stories of sleep walking and sleep shopping to his friends and the media but he didn’t mention that it wasn’t just the home shopping network he called. He didn’t mention that in the past year he had woken up with his phone in his hand, his pajamas sticking to him uncomfortably.

He didn’t look at the screen, refused to push the little button that would bring up his call log. He knew who he called though, because his mind supplied him snippets of the calls, like a dream remembered in vivid detail.

He was thankful when at work the next day nothing was brought up. Their days were cut into blocks of time devoted to readings and shoots and recordings and interviews and truth be told, there really wasn’t much time to discuss things other than work and a random conversation here and there.

They would sit and talk and act together and neither would bring up the topic of late night phone calls.

It was in the middle of a particularly stressful week at work when Chris woke up with a jolt, the beginnings of an orgasm already coursing through his body. He didn’t even think about holding back the moan that ripped through him, didn’t stop his hand as the heat pooled and spread and finally, finally, pushed him over the edge.

It took a moment before he realized that his other hand had his phone pressed against his ear and from it came a rough voice lost in his own broken moans.

“God, Chris. Fuck... Yes, fuck, yes.”

It was Darren. He had always known it was Darren, had memories of Darren coaxing him into an orgasm in his sleep but never had he woken up to find Darren still on the phone.

Chris bit his lip and didn’t say anything, just listened to Darren’s last shuddering moans, pictured Darren on his bed, the old sweats Chris knew he liked sleeping in pushed down, his body arching forward with the force of his orgasm.

He listened as Darren’s harsh breathing slowed down and evened out. He had always imagined Darren to be the type who fell asleep immediately after sex. He never thought he’d be able to find out first hand.

There was a mumbling from Darren that made Chris freeze. There was no way that Darren knew he was awake this time. No way for him to know that this time was any different from the last.

Chris shifted and cringed at the mess that was his pajamas. He was afraid to move, to make any sort of noise but there was no way he was sleeping in them. It was a full minute of listening before Chris finally decided that Darren was indeed asleep. Carefully (even though he knew there was no real way to do that) he ended the call and grabbed a change in clothes on his way to the bathroom.

He studied himself carefully under the harsh light and wondered how his life had somehow ended up like this. He was an actor, a screenplay writer, a children's book author and oh, he also seemed to be some sort of sleeping sex fiend.

A sleeping sex fiend with a very, very hot and apparently very willing co-star as his late night booty call. Chris giggled at that. He was going to need to talk to Darren about this eventually but for tonight, he was infinitely grateful for his sleeping problems.


End file.
